Phantom Felines And Other Ghostly Animals - Gerina Dunwich 2006

The Owl of Death
Other Ghostly Animals

by J. C. Blanchard

It was a snowy November night back in 1977 when the owl first appeared on my grandparents’ farm in northern Maine. My grandfather, who had gone into the barn to retrieve the kerosene for a lantern, spotted something out of the corner of his eye. He turned his head to look and saw a huge owl perched on a beam. But as soon as he focused his eyes on the bird, it seemed to de-materialize.

My grandfather thought the owl must have been a figment of his imagination, and he went about his business. But on the way back to the house with the kerosene, he heard a sound like “hoo, hoo” coming from one of the trees near the garden. He looked up and saw the same owl he had seen earlier in the barn. From its branch it looked down with glowing yellow eyes and made eye contact with him. After a few seconds passed, the owl once again disappeared.

After my grandfather told this strange story to my grandmother, she got worried and told him she felt the owl was a bad omen. He laughed and told her not to be so superstitious. Three days before Thanksgiving he suffered a massive stroke and died.

Everyone in the family tried to convince my grandmother that the owl and her husband’s death were just coincidental events, but she refused to accept them as such.

Two years passed and then one morning my mother received a strange phone call from my grandmother. She said she was calling to say good-bye to everyone because she would soon be joining her husband on the other side. My mother got upset and asked her what was wrong with her health. She replied that her health was okay, but she had heard the owl hooting outside her window the night before and when she raised the shade and gazed upon the creature, it faded away like mist. That’s how she knew her death would be coming soon.

My mother was not a believer in omens or the supernatural, or perhaps she was secretly afraid to believe in that kind of stuff. She got mad and told her mother that she was talking utter nonsense and to stop it. She then changed the subject, talking about the weather and current events for a while, and then said good-bye and hung up the phone.

The following day I came home from school and found my mother sitting at the kitchen table with my Aunt Marie, who had driven up from Bangor. They both were teary-eyed and solemn. I immediately knew something was wrong. My mother gave me a hug and told me the news that my grandma had passed away in her sleep—just as the ghostly owl had portended.